Unwanted
by private investigator 726
Summary: There was only one woman who has ever beaten Sherlock Holmes. Twice. But when a mysterious girl beats Holmes and Watson to a clue, she gets pulled into a case where she gets more than she could have ever bargained for. Holmes /OC
1. Chapter 1: Bad Karma

** Heyyyy! This is private investigator 726 with a new story! Relax, I'm still working on The Fire Within and an assortment of other stories (oneshots, requests, etc.). So, read and review this story! Flames welcome, since it's raining a lot at my house. The flames should help dry my fedora and save me heating expenses :) So, enjoy! **

**Chapter 1: Bad Karma **

Sherlock Holmes slipped through the carts and carriages with Dr. Watson hot at his heels. They slowed as they approached their subject, a young man in his late twenties. His unshaven face and slightly tattered clothes that were still in style gave the indication that he wasn't actually poor and was merely disguised to fool others in thinking so. He entered a dark alley and stopped his brisk pace, pulling his cap over his brow. Holmes cast a glance at Watson, who shrugged.

"I have no idea what he's up to, Holmes. That's usually your area of expertise." Holmes smirked at this comment. He turned back to their target and began to follow him slowly down the alley. They stopped as the man approached two figures sitting in a doorway. A closer look revealed it to be a young boy, about 7 or 8 years of age. A young woman in her early twenties sat next to him, smiling as she listened to him speak animatedly. Holmes analyzed them carefully. The boy seemed to be an orphan, as his face was dirty and his clothes truly worn and out of style. The young woman, on the other hand, seemed to be the exact opposite. She was tall and slender, with raven-black curls pinned away from her face. Her cerulean blue eyes twinkled as she listened to the boy talk and wave his arms excitedly. Holmes noticed something very odd about this woman. He turned to Watson, who looked equally confused.

"She's wearing trousers, not a dress. A woman of her age and apparent stature rarely does so." Holmes voice was slightly hoarse as he spoke. Watson's eyes widened as he jerked his head toward their target. The man was approaching the young woman and the boy. The boy stopped talking and looked up, slightly nervous. The woman smiled nonchalantly at the man.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Could I speak to you for a minute?" The woman nodded and stood up, not looking back. The man pulled her into the darkness of the alley, covering them both from darkness, and the view of the little boy. But not from Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson's view. The man pulled her closer.

"I've seen you somewhere before." The woman laughed haughtily.

"I doubt it. A man as handsome as you never associate with people like me." The man let his fingers stray to the buttons on her white blouse as murmured lowly to her.

"Usually, it's the other way around. You're too lovely for words." The man's hand began to stray down her shirt. Watson made a move to go knock some sense into the man, but Holmes stopped him.

"Let her be. She knows what she's doing." Sure enough, a moment later, she had grabbed his hand and quickly twisted it, breaking his wrist. He screamed and fell to the floor, clutching his wrist. She smiled and turned back the boy, who had rushed to where he had heard the screams. His eyes widened as he saw the whimpering man on the floor. The woman smiled and tossed him a coin before pulling the hood of her cloak over her head and walking briskly away. Holmes and Watson burst from their hiding spot, both of them walking after her. Watson turned to the boy and winked at him, putting a finger over his own mouth to indicate this was to be a secret. Holmes followed her carefully down the alley. The woman suddenly stopped, facing the dead end of the alley.

"Sherlock Holmes." She turned, her face obscured by the hood of her cloak. Sherlock nodded politely at her.

"You handle yourself well. I never suspected you would react the way you did." The woman removed her hood, laughing as she faced Sherlock.

"A mere woman surprising the detective that anticipated the actions of the world's greatest criminals! The world works in mysterious ways, don't you agree, Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock smiled. Watson looked wary as he spoke.

"Who are you?" The woman's blue eyes seemed to pierce Watson as she regarded him.

"That's not a matter to be taken lightly, Doctor." Watson regarded her suspiciously.

"Then what are you doing here? In the alley with an orphan boy?" She bit her lip as she thought.

"Keeping him company. And following the newspaper's leads on the case I assume you two are working on as well." Sherlock stuck his hands in his pocket, pulling out his pipe.

"How refreshing. An ally that is on the same page as us and knows what she is talking about." Watson smiled at hearing this. He tapped his chin.

"Would you be willing to work with on this case, as you seem to be the only one that actually knows what they're doing?" Sherlock shot him a look, but Watson ignored him.

"I would be delighted." She smiled shyly. Sherlock cleared his throat before speaking.

"It would really help if we knew your name, Miss…"

"A'Daire. Alanna A'Daire." Sherlock nodded and shook her hand, Watson following suit.

"Welcome, Miss A'Daire. And thank you very much for knocking that man out just now. We have been tracking him and if he is bailed form jail, we will know who bailed him." Alanna smiled graciously.

**ALANNA'S POV**

Sitting in Holmes apartment on 221B Baker Street was less glamorous than I had expected. But then, men had a nasty tendency to be the messiest people on Earth, so I let it slide. Watson was sitting at Holmes's desk, reading the newspaper and randomly doodling words in the margins. I could've sworn I saw the words "Mary Morstan" a few times in the midst of the scribbles. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. I don't think they were though, because when I snuck behind Watson and leaned over his shoulder to read the news, he snapped the papers shut. Holmes was lounging on his couch, lazily drawing his bow over his violin. Watson winced every once and a while as I observed this scene with amusement. Five minutes later, Watson had had enough.

"Holmes, if you can't make any decent music come from that violin, then could you please stop playing and let me think?" Holmes looked up, his chocolate brown eyes wide.

"You've never objected to my methods of relaxation before. Why should today be any different?" Watson let his head fall into his hands. His voice was muffled as he spoke.

"Because I can't think. And it is crucial we all cooperate and think, because the longer we wait, the more people are in danger." I smiled, entertained by this display of frustration for the normally patient doctor. I decided to spare John and make Holmes stop playing.

"Shall we pause a moment and go over what we have?" Watson looked up tiredly, but relieved.

"Yes, thank you Ms. A'Daire. That is a wonderful idea." I pulled a notebook out of my pocket, flipping to the page I had all my evidence on this case. Yes, I knew keeping evidence in my pocket was risky as anyone could read it and take my evidence and use it nefarious purposes. But I had it all in code; only I could read it. I cleared my throat and began to read aloud.

"October 21 marked the first day that people noticed something was amiss at Hayes's Home for Children. Two children had vanished mysteriously. The entrances to the orphanage were all under constant guard and all prefects saw nothing that night. The door to the room of the two children showed no sign of being forced open or the lock being picked. The children's beds were made, as if they had never gone to bed. The windows were all closed, locked and secure. No sign of being forced open as well. There were no footprints under the windows or around the doors, which made no sense for it rained that evening. The only thing that was amiss was that-"

"There was a report of a few of the children hearing faint screaming and crying, but the prefects at the Home dismissed them as nightmares or spirits. Apparently, they encourage ghost stories there." Holmes finished off for me. I smiled, but said nothing. Watson scratched his head.

"Seems like a perfect kidnapping." I laughed before I spoke.

"John Watson, all of us know there is no such thing as a perfect crime." There was a long silence. I got up and paced the room slowly, looking around. There was a face-down picture on the desk. I lifted it curiously, but only caught a glimpse of the face before Holmes spoke quietly.

"Ms. A'Daire, I would prefer you leave that alone." I left it face-down and turned to Holmes, who was watching me carefully. I self-consciously tucked a few curls behind my ear that had escaped from my loose ponytail. He tilted his head slightly, contemplating me as I watched him. _This is very awkward._ I thought to myself as he turned away, looking out the window.

"Read on, Ms. A'Daire." I turned back to my list, flushing slightly.

"October 31. It being Halloween and all, children at Hayes's Home for Children were frightened of the ghosts that would come and snatch them in the night. Many children swore they heard footsteps outside their doors while the prefects all said they had been somewhere else. A meeting in the mess hall, apparently. One child went missing, same circumstances as the last two. The morning of November 1, the day after, the children found a message written on the ceiling. "Watch your backs. We are coming." It seemed to be written in blood." Holmes looked at me.

"I presume you took a photograph?" I nodded and tossed the notebook at him. He studied it carefully, then handed the notebook to Watson. He looked at the picture carefully.

"Hm. This picture is better than the one they published in the newspaper." I smiled smugly, not revealing that this picture was actually the original copy the photographer took for the newspaper. I knew him and he didn't want to keep the picture. "Bad karma," he had said.

"It's more than that, Watson." I looked at Holmes, as did Watson.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for one thing, this _is_ the picture from the newspaper. And on another note, this is definitely not blood. Blood, when on any surface, will appear to turn brown after a certain amount of time because of the break-down of the oxygen concentration, in which it is reduced and plasma is released. Blood appears red when it is oxygenated, because of the hemoglobin. Therefore, since the "blood" sat overnight on the ceiling, if it had been real, it would have changed its color by now." Silence met this comment. Holmes looked around, surprised no comment had been made. I smiled.

"The picture is indeed from the newspaper. I know the photographer and he didn't want to keep the picture for fear of "bad karma"." My fingers sketched quotation marks around the words bad karma. Watson looked impressed.

"What other people do you have connections with?" I shrugged nonchalantly, falling into the armchair next to the desk.

"Store owners scattered around London, the newspaper photographer, inn owners, the list goes on." Holmes turned and surveyed me carefully before speaking cautiously.

"What about Scotland Yard?" I laughed, tucking a black curl behind my ear.

"I don't them, they don't like me. I can get along with them if I need to, but I prefer not to." Homes nodded and glanced at the clock.

"It's 11:00, Ms. A'Daire. You should get going, your family will worry."

"Mr. Holmes, my family doesn't give a hang whether I'm in bed at home or dead in the sewers." I stood up anyways, recognizing this as a dismissal. I threw my cloak over my shoulders and walked towards the door. Watson opened it for me.

"Good night, Ms. A'Daire." I smiled graciously.

"Good night Dr. Watson, Mr. Holmes." The door closed.

**SHERLOCK'S POV**

The door closed. I let my violin fall to my chest as I looked at Watson. He raised his hands in a gesture of defeat.

"I personally enjoy her company. She knows what she's talking about and she's a very capable person. I admit, I think we may need her on this case." I sighed and looked out the window.

"I feel the same, and I know she will be a valuable asset to this case. She's just…different. A character, you may say. I don't understand her as well as others." Watson laughed.

"You're just mad that she beat us to a clue, which only one other person has managed to do." I glanced at the frame on the desk. I stood and walked over, setting the photo upright.

"I feel no emotion over Ms. A'Daire finding a clue before us. There are many brilliant people in this world." Watson rolled his eyes.

"In which only two have actually defeated the great Sherlock Holmes. Alanna A'Daire and Irene Adler. Say what you like, Holmes. I think you have a thing for Ms. A'Daire." I turned slowly towards Watson, my face frozen in a frown.

"I think not, Watson. There are… many more women in the world that are more talented, discreet, beautiful, and smarter than Ms. Alanna A'Daire."

**ALANNA'S POV**

I pulled my ear away from the door, smirking. They didn't even check to see whether I had really gone. Men. I shook my head and walked down the stairs to the front door. Pulling my cloak tightly around my shoulders as I walked down the street, I thought to myself.

_So, I am working with two male detectives, one I understand and one I don't. _I looked at the cobblestones as I walked.

_Irene Adler. Familiar name. _ I slipped through a gap between buildings, taking a shortcut to my home. I watched people who pushed past me, eager to get home while others sat in the streets, with no home to rush to. I slowed my step as I walked up the five stairs to the front door of my house. I knocked, not even bothering to pull the house key I had out of my pocket. The door opened and I walked in, pulling the hood of my cloak off my head. The door closed.


	2. Chapter 2: Runaway

** Heyyyy! Chapter 2 is here! Thanks to the people who read, reviewed, followed and favorite this story. You are all amazing 3 Soo… I finally watched A Game of Shadows because my sister got it for her birthday. It was awesome… if you haven't watched it, please do!**

**FireFrost076: Thank you! I'm glad you like Alanna, I was afraid she seemed too independent and aloof to be considered a good protagonist. But I guess she works fine!**

**James Birdsong: Thanks! :)**

** Now, back to the story! R&R please! private investigator 726**

**Chapter 2: Runaway **

Holmes checked his watch. 5:01. A little early for a woman to be up, but he had to keep Alanna on her toes. Working with Sherlock Holmes would be very demanding and Alanna should know that. He lifted his hand to knock on the door, but as soon as his fist touched the wood, the door creaked open. He poked his head in and saw Alanna holding the doorknob. She smirked.

"Thought 5:01 was early, didn't you?" Sherlock shrugged, pulling his hat lower down his forehead.

"We need to get going. I have evidence that may solve this case and I need you to assist me." Alanna nodded and grabbed her cloak off the coat-rack as she shut the door. She walked next to Holmes as they strolled down the street. She looked at Holmes curiously as they walked on.

"So…where are we headed?" Holmes gave her an odd look.

"I have no idea." Alanna scoffed.

"Don't give me that. I'm not Watson. I won't walk blindly into your schemes. I'm not budging until I know where I'm going." Alanna promptly stopped walking in the middle of the street and crossed her arms over her chest. Holmes huffed and turned around to face Alanna.

"Don't be dense, I truly have no plan. I know where to find the suspect, we ask him a few questions and we go from there." Alanna pursed her lips and relented.

"Fine. But if you think of a plan, you had better tell me. I don't want to walk into my death unknowingly." Holmes shrugged.

"As you wish, Madam."

Holmes and Alanna entered the orphanage quietly. It was now 6 o'clock and most of the children at the orphanage were up and about. The prefects ran around, trying vainly to suppress the noises coming from the orphans as not to awake the head of the orphanage, but they failed. The headmaster opened to door to his office, bleary-eyed. He saw Sherlock Holmes and Alanna at the dorrway and quickly straightened his tie, motioning them to enter his office. Holmes let Alanna enter before he did so, closing the door behind him. The headmaster fell into the seat behind his desk, running his hands through his hair agitatedly.

"Three children gone in the span of 10 days. And now, another child gone." Alanna cast a glance at Sherlock, who returned it, his gaze dark.

"Who was it? When, specifically, did the child disappear?" Sherlock placed both hands on the desk, leaning forward. Alanna watched in amazement as Sherlock Holmes underwent a transformation. No longer did the annoyed gentleman stand before her, but a detective. A detective with his mind set on solving the case.

"Brendan Calder. Orphan boy of 8 years. He disappeared the night before last. The same circumstances as before, no clues, no evidence. Except for a note that he left." The headmaster carefully pulled a slip of paper from his desk drawer. Sherlock took it from the headmaster and gazed at it.

"They are coming for us all. One by one." Sherlock glanced at Alanna, who sat at the edge of the desk. She shrugged.

"It could mean anything. Brendan wasn't very specific with his words." Sherlock nodded and turned to the headmaster.

"Have the newspapers gotten wind of it?" The headmaster shook his head.

"Not a soul knows except for you two, me and the prefects. The children believe he ran away. He hated this place." Alanna tapped her chin and fiddled with a pen on the desk, twirling it between her fingers as she spoke.

"Maybe. It's highly unlikely that he could have done that, given the security around here." Holmes nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, keep this a secret. Best not to have this panic anyone else." Holmes shook hands with the headmaster, Alanna following suit. The children quieted as Sherlock and Alanna walked out of the office. A little girl stepped out of line and grabbed Alanna's hand. A prefect stepped out from the crowd of children.

"Cindy! Get back in line!" The prefect grabbed the little girl's hand. Alanna shot him a look that caused him to shrink back into the crowd. Alanna knelt down next to the girl.

"Yes?" The little girl started to cry silently, tears running down her cheeks.

"Please find my brother. I miss him a lot." Alanna smiled and wiped the tears from the little girl's cheeks.

"We have the best detective in all of London on this case. I'm positive he'll find him." The little girl smiled and backed into the crowd of children. Alanna stood and followed Holmes out of the door. They walked in silence for a few minutes. Alanna followed Holmes and realized they were heading toward his apartment on 221B Baker Street. Holmes slowed his pace so that he and Alanna were side-by-side. He turned to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke.

"You knew the…most recent orphan abductee, didn't you?" Alanna nodded.

"The first day you met me, in the alley? The little boy I was talking to was Brendan."

"Did he seem to hate the orphanage?" Alanna shrugged.

"He didn't mention anything about the orphanage, only the antics of his sister, Cindy." Holmes nodded absentmindedly as he walked up the steps of his apartment. He opened the door and walked up the stairs, muttering to himself. Alanna waved at Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. She returned the wave with a tight smile. Alanna sprinted up the stairs, following Holmes into his room. She fell onto the couch, examining the clock on the wall. 7:23. She plucked a pen from Holmes's desk and pulled her notebook from her pocket. Leaning the notebook on her knee, she began to write. Holmes sat lazily in an armchair, smoking his pipe and watching Alanna. There was a long silence. Alanna suddenly turned to Holmes, curious.

"Who do you have in mind for suspects?" Holmes stood and paced around the couch Alanna sat in.

"Anyone and everyone. The headmaster, the prefects, the doctor that visited the night before the first two children disappeared, the children themselves, me, Watson, you." Holmes smiled as he murmured in her ear.

"The possibilities are endless." Alanna smiled at this list of suspects. Her face suddenly changed.

"Doctor? What doctor?" Holmes smiled and sat on the arm of the couch.

"I heard from a reliable source that a doctor came for a check-up of the children the night of October 20, the night before the first 2 children disappeared." Alanna tilted her head, regarding Sherlock curiously.

"Would your reliable source be Dr. Watson?" Holmes shrugged nonchalantly, walking over to his chair and twirling a pen between his fingers. Alanna watched him for a moment, her eyes never leaving him as she let her hand stray to the face-down picture on the desk. She quickly flipped it over and lounged on the couch, examining the photo carefully. This Irene Adler was clearly a gorgeous woman. With her stylish hat and dress, perfectly placed brown hair and pale oval face, she was the exact image of someone Alanna thought Sherlock Holmes would fall for. Alanna smiled and placed the picture face-up on the desk as she spoke.

"So, Mr. Holmes. Who is this Irene Adler I have been hearing so much about?" Holmes turned, his brown eyes cold.

"I have no idea who you are speaking of, Ms. A'Daire." I smirked, twirling a lock of my black hair between my fingers.

"Oh, I think you do, Mr. Holmes. You see, I know for a fact that she has defeated the great Sherlock Holmes once. When and where, I am not sure, but-" Holmes walked briskly over to the couch, his eyes blazing.

"What do you know?" Alanna blinked, not at all intimidated by this display anger as she answered.

"All I truly know is that she is a woman, she has beaten you to a clue once and that she a woman that falls under the category of there being "many more women in the world that are more talented, discreet, beautiful, and smarter than Ms. Alanna A'Daire." Holmes sucked in his breath, his eyes full of conviction.

"You heard." Alanna laughed harshly.

"Damn right I heard, Sherlock Holmes." Holmes frowned and was about to speak before a knock sounded on the door.

"Holmes! Holmes! Open the door!" Alanna stood and opened the door, letting Watson stumble in. Watson looked wildly around as spoke, a package in his hand.

"This was left for you at the door addressed to you. The messenger who delivered it was shot at the front door." Holmes frowned and shook the package gently. Carefully slitting the package open, he wrinkled his nose at the contents. Alanna peered in and gasped. A bloody child's hand held a note. Watson plucked the note from the child's hand and examined the hand. Alanna fell onto the couch as Holmes read the note.

"It says, 'This child is dead. Leave well enough alone.'" Holmes turned to Alanna, who was breathing slowly. He raised his eyebrows as he spoke.

"Are you alright?" Alanna opened her eyes.

"Brendan's dead." Watson looked up.

"And you know this because…" Alanna took the hand from the box and gestured at the raggedy woven bracelet on its wrist.

"He told me that Cindy had made this for him on his 8th birthday. It was the best present he had ever received." Alanna gently eased the bracelet off the hand and walked to the bathroom to wash the blood off. Holmes shot a glance at Watson as he spoke.

"You are just in time to witness the first threat we have received on this mission, Dr. Watson." Watson smiled, but quickly turned a serious face.

"What were you two doing before I came in? I could hear you two yelling." Holmes looked surprised.

"We were that loud?" Watson nodded.

"What was it you two were yelling about?!" Holmes smiled.

"That, my dear Watson, is a story for another day. We should go see the messenger that was shot." Alanna emerged from the bathroom with the clean bracelet in her hands. She followed them out the door of Holmes's room to the lobby. The messenger had been laid down on the couch and everyone was steering clear of it. Watson knelt down and examined the figure's wound.

".38 caliber bullet, right through the skull. Killed instantly. Whoever did this was an exceptional shot." Alanna stood in the doorway, examining the bloodstains on the doorstep. She turned to Watson.

"Did anyone actually see him get shot?" Watson gestured to Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. Alanna turned to her.

"What position was he in when he was shot?" Mrs. Hudson thought for a moment before answering.

"He was standing straight up, Ms. A'Daire." Alanna nodded and looked at Holmes. The latter nodded knowingly.

"The bullet came in at an approximate 45 degree angle, which places the assailant on the-"

"The third floor of the opposite building which happens to be a hotel." Alanna finished. Holmes nodded, delighted that there was at least someone on this case who could follow his thought process. Alanna peered out the doorway at the third floor.

"Yes, there's a window right where the projected shot came from. Perfect." Watson looked up from the body, smiling amusedly.

"You two go investigate, I'll go report this to the authorities." Holmes nodded.

"Be sure not to mention the contents of the package, Watson." Watson nodded as he packed up his tools. Alanna and Holmes raced to the hotel, barging in and sprinting up the stairs. They searched until they found the correct room, then burst in. The room was completely empty, save a single piece of paper on the floor next to the window. Alanna picked it up and read it aloud.

"This is only the beginning. More will die and it will be your fault." Alanna turned to Holmes, who walked over and snatched the note from her hands. He sniffed it and let if fall to the floor.

"The handwriting is fairly distinct. Should help us in the future." Holmes pocketed the note and scanned the floor. Alanna knelt down and laughed as she touched the floor with her finger.

"Mud from his boots. His feet are fairly large, so judging by the size," Alanna squinted at the footprints, "He should be a fairly tall man, placing around 6 feet tall, give or take a few inches." Holmes nodded.

"And the mud." Holmes rubbed the mud between his fingers.

"River silt, correct?" Holmes smiled.

"Indeed. The cigar ashes surrounding these footprints are a very cheap kind, therefore placing this man in a river sector of London. He has barely enough money to scrap by, judging by the clumps of mud that have fallen from the holes in his shoes. Where his talent with the gun came from, we may never know." Alanna looked at Holmes, her face full of worry.

"If this man is from such a poor area in London, we can safely conclude he won't last for long. He won't be considered important in this case and could be disposed of easily by whomever he is working for." Holmes's eyes widened as he stood.

"You're right. Come, Ms. A'Daire, the game's afoot!


	3. Chapter 3: Challenge

**Chapter 3 has arrived! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I love you guys!**

**hypershay: Awww…thank you :) And I'm definitely continuing this story, it's so much fun to write!**

**SecretlyaBritishninja: You shush, alright? I was writing and I thought that name sounded good, you know…Brendan…Calder?... *sigh* Alright you win, I did choose that name for…reasons. You had better shush -**

** Now, back to the story! R&R please! private investigator 726**

**Chapter 3: 9:27 **

Watson knocked on Holmes's door. No reply. Watson knocked again, counted ten seconds, then opened the door. Holmes was sitting on his bed, scraping mud from the bottom of his boots. Watson leaned against the doorframe and watched Holmes for a moment before speaking.

"Did you enjoy your trek in the mud, Holmes?" Holmes gave him look before resuming his scraping of his boots.

"As a matter of fact, I did. We saved a murderer from his death and sent him to jail. Very productive morning, don't you think?" Watson gaped at Holmes for a moment.

"All in this morning? Holmes, it's," Watson checked his watch. "9:27. It's 9:27, I just got up and you have already diverted a homicide and sent a murderer to jail." Watson rubbed his temples as he fell into a chair.

"I need to get up earlier." Alanna walked out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel.

"You do, Watson. You missed all the fun." Watson closed his eyes and nodded. Alanna smiled and walked to the window, poking her head out. She took a deep breath closed her air.

"Fresh London air. I love it." She said briskly as she shut the window with a snap. Watson snorted.

"London has no fresh air, dear." Alanna nodded and sat on the floor, Indian-style, meticulously drying her hair with the towel.

"Hence the sarcasm, Watson." Watson smiled and looked at Holmes.

"So what did I miss?" Holmes smiled.

**SHERLOCK'S POV**

_ We ran towards the river sector of London. _

_"This suspect won't be as hard to find, given his height. We needed a place along the Thames that was abundant in river silt." Holmes murmured. Alanna nodded and stopped a man on the road that had river silt covering his boots._

_ "Où habitez-vous?" The man looked a little surprised._

_ "Pourquoi demandez-vous?" Alanna sighed and ran her hand throw her hair as if frustrated._

_ "Parce que j'ai un ami qui vit ici et je suis perdu. Tout ce que je sais, c'est qu'il vit près de la rivière et obtient toujours limon de la rivière sur ses bottes, toute comme vous. Par conséquent, il doit vivre près de chez vous." The man nodded._

_ "Je comprends, il est facile de se perdre si l'on ne vit pas ici. Aller en bas de cette route, tournez à gauche, puis à droite et vous devriez venir sur le village de Nore, où limon de la rivière est abondante à leurs pieds. " Alanna nodded her thanks as the man shuffled away. She turned to Holmes._

_ "So, lead the way." Holmes smiled and raced down the dirt roads, following the man's directions. They stopped in a cluster of houses that was right next to the river. Alanna turned to Holmes._

_ "Now what?" Holmes smiled mysteriously._

_ "We make ourselves an easy target. We don't know what this man looks like, but he knows what we look like. The best way to get someone out of hiding is to make ourselves a simple catch." Alanna's eyes widened as she slowly turned around. There was a man watching them casually as they stood in the middle of the "town square". Alanna decided against her better judgment to tell Holmes they were being watched. Instead, she tapped his hand, which was hanging loosely as his side, next to hers. He tensed as soon as she touched him. Holmes nodded discreetly and whispered quietly to Alanna,_

_ "He's in my sights. There's a gun in the back pocket of my trousers, take it out, hide it and go pretend as if we are splitting up to look for him. Go hide behind on of the carts and cover me. I will be armed, but I will only use it in a dire emergency." Alanna nodded and let her fingers slip to the gun in his pocket. Easing it out carefully, she concealed in in the folds of her cloak and walked away briskly. Holmes waited a moment before he realized that she had already taken his gun. She had a very soft touch, good enough to be a decent pick pocket. He turned to the man that had been watching them._

_ "Wonderful shot. You could be in the army if you applied." The man shrugged and flicked the ashes from his cigar._

_ "I did apply, but they denied." Holmes smiled._

_ "Their loss." The man looked at Holmes carefully and without a moment's notice, pulled his gun out. His finger pulled the trigger. Holmes shut his eyes, waiting for the bullet, but it never came. The man was on the ground, clutching his hand, blood gushing out. Alanna emerged from her hiding spot and tossed the gun at Holmes._

_ "You lied. This was your only weapon." Holmes nodded and pocketed the gun. Alanna took the gun from the man's hand and turned to some of the villagers._

_ "Could you contact Scotland Yard? This man's a criminal." A woman nodded and called for her husband to go get Scotland Yard._

Watson listened to the recount of their morning adventures with awe.

"I really need to wake up earlier." Alanna smiled and tossed the towel in the laundry basket.

"So, has Scotland Yard found anything on him?" Holmes shrugged.

"We'll know by tomorrow. By the way, where did you learn how to shoot a gun so well?" Alanna laughed harshly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Watson nodded, but Alanna didn't elaborate. Holmes sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"This doesn't help anything. The convict won't tell us anything, we have 1 orphan confirmed dead and 2 who have mysteriously vanished. And we have no further leads." Alanna shrugged and fell over on the floor so that she was lying flat on her back and staring at the ceiling. She thought carefully before she spoke.

"Well, we know who writes the notes, that's a check off the list of questions. And if we can figure out what type of gun the criminal used, we can place what class his benefactor is from, therefore narrowing down many possibilities." Holmes shrugged and placed his newly cleaned boots next to his bed. He stood and paced around the room, lighting his pipe that he had retrieved from his pocket.

"Possible. The gun was in fact a very new gun, complete with a tripod. With the combination of this gun, which in fact had a very precise aim, and the gunman himself, he was unstoppable." Watson leaned against the wall and looked around.

"Any idea who could be the benefactor?" Holmes smiled as he turned towards Watson.

"The gunman himself. The orphan prefects." Holmes walked toward them, pacing in a circle around Alanna. "The orphanage headmaster. The orphans themselves. Watson. Me." Holmes leaned down from behind Alanna and whispered in her ear. "You." Alanna shivered slightly as she felt Holmes's breath down her neck. Holmes straightened and began pacing in a circle again.

"Everyone is a possibility, Watson. At this point in the case, it could be anyone." Holmes strolled to the window and stared at the sky. Alanna watched him for a moment before speaking, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So what you're saying is you don't actually know who the benefactor is, right?" Holmes turned toward Alanna slowly as Watson chuckled, speaking through his laughter.

"Never challenge the great Sherlock Holmes, Alanna. That is the first thing you should have learned when you arrived." Alanna pulled her legs to her chest and let her chin rest on top of her knees.

"I don't see why I can't question Sherlock Holmes and his forever-mysterious motives. So you really don't know who the benefactor is?" Holmes crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do you, Ms. A'Daire?" Alanna shook her head.

"No, I don't." Holmes smiled.

"Therefore you cannot judge me." Alanna wrinkled her nose.

"But I admitted it. You on the other hand, just speak and use big words until the other person is so dizzy they can't remember that you never gave them a straight answer to whether or not you actually know who the culprit is." Holmes frowned, but said nothing. Watson smirked and picked up the morning paper, flattening it out so that he could read.

"Well Holmes, it seems you have been bested by Alanna. The first of many, I hope." Holmes threw his quill at Watson, piercing his newspaper. Watson snorted and continued reading his newspaper. Alanna smiled and stood, leaning against the couch.

"Well, I'll leave you two to your bickering and I'll go home. You know where to find me if I'm needed." She walked towards the door, but Holmes stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

"No eavesdropping?" Alanna stopped and turned to Holmes, a mysterious twinkle in her eyes.

"No eavesdropping. For now." With that, Alanna closed the door, the lock clicking behind her.

Alanna walked towards her house, her boots clicking against the cobblestones. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door carelessly. The door opened and Alanna slipped in. The door closed. Alanna surveyed the familiar scene. Her bratty little brother sat at the table surrounded by his favorite foods, throwing a tantrum. Her mother was next to him, trying to console him. Her father sat in the threadbare armchair at the corner of the room, reading the newspaper. She walked to the table and took an apple from the basket. Her brother screamed in anger.

"Make her put the apple back! It's mine!" Alanna snorted and took a big bite out of the apple before speaking.

"Finish all the food on the table and I'll give it back." Her little brother screamed again, this time directed towards their mother.

"Mother! Make her give it back!" Cheryl A'Daire turned to Alanna, her eyes flaring.

"Alanna A'Daire, put that apple back on the table for Kirkland. Now." Alanna shrugged and tossed the half-eaten apple at Kirkland, who screamed as the bitten part hit him.

"Make her throw it away!" Cheryl gave Alanna a look. Alanna smiled sweetly and simply turned on her heel towards her bedroom in the attic. Her father, Landon, smiled at this display of rebellion. Alanna smiled at her father as she climbed up the ladder to her room and slammed the hatch shut. Alanna fell onto her cot with a huff. She remembered a time when she came home that she was welcomed home and her family was happy. But since her mother had died and Landon had married this woman, her life had been turned upside down. After having Kirkland, her step-mother had become beyond unbearable, spoiling her son to no end. And Alanna hated it.


	4. Chapter 4: Piece It Together

And Chapter 4 arrives! If you notice there's a quote from Game of Shadows in this chapter, you are right. I watched it for the 50 millionth last night and I just love that scene with Simza and Sherlock, so I incorporated it :) Happy Reading!

**Queenylime2: Thanks! *blushes* Glad you like it and I am definitely going to continue this lovely story. I mean, who can resist Sherlock Holmes (not to mention Robert Downey Jr. ;)?!**

**Chapter 4: Piece It Together **

Sherlock Holmes stood by the window in his room, smoking his pipe. The door opened and closed. Holmes closed his eyes.

"Good morning Ms. A'Daire." Alanna jumped onto his bed and buried her face in the pillows, her voice muffled as she spoke.

"Good morning, Mr. Holmes." Holmes turned to see Alanna curled up in fetal position on his bed. He poked her playfully, smiling smugly.

"Did you wake up too early, Ms. A'Daire?" Alanna opened one cerulean blue eye and surveyed Holmes.

"You wish, Sherlock Holmes." She threw a pillow at him and buried her face back in the sheets. Holmes tried to dodge the pillow, but it hit him squarely in the chest. He sat on the bed next to her and pulled the covers away from her.

"Is something wrong?" Alanna looked up and sighed, frowning as she spoke.

"I don't understand how it works. Who would kill innocent orphans for no reason?" Holmes tapped Alanna's head.

"Whoever is killing them has a reason. It is just unknown to us." Alanna stared at the ceiling, deep in thought.

"I was thinking…"

"As was I…" Alanna heard this and turned to Holmes, her eyes sparkling as she spoke.

"There's a ball coming up next week. All prestigious people in the area are invited and are almost obligated to come, as the person who is hosting it is at the very top of the social ladder, to coin a phrase. The criminal's benefactor must be there. We can obtain the guest list and that should narrow down some of our searching." Holmes laughed as he pulled an envelope from his sleeve. He handed it to her as he spoke.

"Exactly. I actually know this man "at the top of the social ladder" quite well and was invited to this ball. And I can easily procure the guest list without any disputes in my motives, as he knows my profession." Alanna smiled. Holmes could almost see the gears in her brain turning.

"Perfect. Watson will come too, right?" Holmes nodded.

"Good. I'll go find a dress to wear." Alanna slipped out of the bed and walked to the door.

Watson watched Holmes fiddle with his bowtie. Watson smiled amusedly and picked up the newspaper, scanning the cover.

"It's just a party, Holmes. Nothing you should be worried about. You've been to many of them." Holmes sighed.

"True. But I have to make an impression, because of certain people attending." Watson covered his face with the newspaper, speaking softly.

"Would 'certain people' include Ms. Alanna A'Daire?" Holmes's face flushed slightly.

"Did I ever say that?" Watson shrugged.

"It was implied. Come now, Holmes. You walked right into that one. Admit it." Holmes threw a crumpled piece of paper at Watson half-heartedly.

"There is nothing to admit. Come Watson, let us go." Watson looked surprised.

"What about Alanna?"

"She's meeting us there. She said she didn't need the ride. And I quote her directly, 'The walk will do me good.'" Watson's eyes widened.

"She's walking there?" Holmes shrugged.

"Apparently so."

Watson and Holmes stepped out of the carriage into the crowded entrance.

"Fashionably late by 3 minutes, you two are." Holmes turned to face Alanna. She brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"I hate dresses." Holmes surveyed her outfit with interest. A dark red dress made of satin, without a bustle. A dress with a front low-cut enough to tempt a man, but not enough to appear desperate. Holmes raised his eyebrow.

"No bustle?" Alanna laughed, tugging at her gloves.

"Bustles are clearly unnecessary. Waste of space, if you ask me." Watson laughed, but said nothing more. Alanna fidgeted, rubbing her bare arms, and glanced at Holmes.

"It's freezing. Can we go inside?" Holmes smiled and opened the door for her and Watson. They entered the crowded ballroom. The music was loud and gay. Holmes surveyed the room and quickly placed the exits. Alanna watched him, slightly amused.

"You one." She said as she pointed to a small door behind the musicians that was barely visible. Holmes nodded and offered his hand.

"Dance?" Alanna took his hand as he led her onto the dance floor. Alanna let her free hand fall to his shoulder as his hand slipped down to her waist. She looked up into his chocolate brown eyes.

"What do you see?" Holmes paused before answering.

"Everything. _That_… is my curse." Alanna tilted her head as she watched Holmes.

"Who do you deem suspicious?" Holmes's eyes met Alanna's cerulean blue eyes.

"Nobody. Yet. There's a point in a case where you cannot continue randomly assuming people are a suspect. They have to start earning their way onto the suspect list." Alanna smiled at his reply. She paused and turned her head. She watched a young man walk around the edge of the crowd.

"He looks familiar. Doesn't he?" Holmes looked carefully.

"One of the prefects from the orphanage." Alanna looked surprised, turning to Holmes.

"A prefect? What on earth would he be doing here?" Holmes narrowed his eyes.

"I wouldn't know. Should I…no, that wouldn't be wise…" Sherlock turned away, murmuring to himself. Alanna raised her eyebrows and put her hand under his chin, turning his face so that they were looking each other square in the eye.

"You want me to tail him?" Sherlock didn't speak. She sighed, letting her hand fall to his shoulder.

"Sherlock, we haven't got hat much time. I either tail him or I don't." He shook his head.

"No. It's too dangerous. You'll get hurt." Alanna tilted her head to one side.

"I'll be fine. I can handle it." She smiled and vanished into the crowd. Sherlock stepped over to Watson's side.

"Alanna's trailing our suspect. I need you to watch the crowd while I follow her. I have a feeling that the man she is tailing has some nasty tricks up his sleeve and she may need backup."

"Concerned about Alanna, Mr. Holmes?" Watson smirked.

"As a colleague, yes. Watch the crowd." Holmes turned and scanned the people, searching for Alanna. He saw her follow the man out the building onto a snowy balcony, isolated from the crowd. She waited behind a group of merry partiers until he had vanished outside. She closed her eyes and waited a few seconds before opening the door and slipping in.

**ALANNA'S POV**

I slipped in and closed the door. The prefect was looking out at the spectacular view, his back turned to me. I winced as the snow crunched beneath my feet. I hated it when it snowed. The prefect turned and smiled, his eyes cold.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" I almost wrinkled my nose in disdain, but stopped myself in time.

"Who, sir. I am a person, after all."

"Of course, of course. Forgive me, in my shock, the words slipped out. Most un-polite of me." I smiled and moved closer, still keeping a safe distance away.

"I don't believe we have been properly introduced." The man smiled at this comment.

"Well, some of us prefer a certain amount of anonymity. You of all people should understand that." I backed away slightly, surprised he would know about me. He slowly circled me, his gaze piercing.

"Ms. A'Daire. The protégé of the famous Sherlock Holmes. How much do you _really _know about him?" I smiled.

"Enough to satisfy my curiosity, thank you." He laughed.

"You are lying. Nobody with a broad enough mind would be satisfied with that insignificant amount of information. Especially you, Ms. A'Daire." My hands curled into fists.

"I should know what I am curious about, sir. I know enough. It should satisfy you as well." He moved, suddenly, with lightning speed. Grabbing my wrist and pinning me against the wall, his feet pushed mine against ground. I couldn't move. I cursed the dress, hating it.

"Ms. A'Daire, Sherlock Holmes keeps too much in the dark. How much do you know about the case? About _him_?" He let his hand stray to his pocket, pulling a knife out. He let the knife fall to my side. He pressed gently, tearing the fabric.

"The more he hides, the less you know. The less you know, the more dangerous this case becomes. And the more dangerous this case becomes, the higher risk of you being injured. And we wouldn't want that, would we now?" I struggled, trying to push him away. His grip on my wrist tightened and he removed his hand from my wrist, moving it to my shoulder. I struggled, my voice low as I spoke.

"I know enough to piece the pieces together. I'm smart." He pressed the knife into my side, hard. I gasped as I felt blood running down my leg. He loosened his grip on me as I slide to the floor, clutching my side. He knelt down, whispering softly.

"Didn't see that in the puzzle, did you Ms. A'Daire?" He straightened, throwing the knife on the ground and walking to the door. He opened the door, slipping out. The door snapped shut. And I was alone.

**SHERLOCK'S POV**

I waited outside the door. The prefect slipped out the door. But Alanna didn't follow. I nodded at Watson, who walked toward the prefect. I opened the door to the balcony, snapping the door shut behind me. I bit my lip as I saw Alanna on the floor. I rushed to her side, helping her sit up. She propped herself up, but fell back, the pain proving too much. I caught her in my arms, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"I told you you'd get hurt." She exhaled slowly, her breath shaky. She managed a brief smile.

"You're always right, I know." I frowned, concerned.

"What happened?"

"Nothing much, we just stood around, made daisy chains and discussed the new bakery on Smythson Street." I let out a short laugh, relieved that she still had enough strength to find humor in this situation. I picked her up, careful to avoid touching her wound.

"I'm taking you to Baker Street."

Alanna's eyes fluttered open, slowly taking her surroundings. Holmes was sitting at her side, wiping her forehead with a cool cloth. He immediately stopped, getting up from the bed and grabbing something from the table. He turned to Alanna, his voice serious.

"Do you feel well enough to change into something more comfortable?" Alanna though for a moment. She nodded warily. Holmes handed her a pair of trousers she had left from the day before when their clothes had been full of mud. She had dried it off and forgotten it. The shirt, on the other hand, was Sherlock's. Holmes turned his face as Alanna quickly changed out of the dress. Once Alanna had finished, Holmes took the dress and laid it over the back of a chair. He helped her lay herself on the bed. He pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some bandages along with a hand towel. As he poured alcohol onto the towel, he began speaking to distract her form the paint hat was sure to come.

"Would your family mind if you stayed the night?" Alanna winced as the rubbing alcohol touched her wound. She forced a laugh before she spoke.

"They'll be fine with it. They won't care." Holmes nodded as he finished cleaning her wound. Alanna closed her eyes, breathing softly. Holmes watched her. She had fallen asleep. A peaceful expression graced Alanna's face, as well as his. He brushed a strand of hair from her hair. Alanna smiled in her sleep. Holmes quickly bandaged her wound and covered Alanna with a quilt from the bed. He threw a sheet and some pillows at the couch. Turning back to Alanna, he gazed at her for a moment before kissing her forehead gently. He walked to the couch and threw himself onto it, gazing it at the ceiling. He knew he was walking down an unexplored path by falling in love with Alanna. But he couldn't help it. She was so beautiful and different. And she treated him like a normal person, not some prodigy like everyone else did. Shouldn't that be reason enough for him to love her?


End file.
